


Blueberry

by Myserie



Series: Blueberry AU [1]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 08:24:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18007313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myserie/pseuds/Myserie
Summary: Day 141“I look like a blueberry.”“I was going to say a Smurf, but blueberry works.”-Day 142“Good morning, Blueberry.”“Oh, I hate you.”“No you don’t.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Damian is an old OC I created for an RP back in high school that I recently dug up and polished. I hope you like him :)

Before

 _”You’ll like him, Chris. He’s a smart kid with a good head on his shoulders. How often do you hear me say that about_ any _Ensign or Junior Officer?”_

 _“You really want me_ _to bring aboard an Ensign in the middle of a five year mission, Phil?“_

_”Yes. He wants out from under his mother’s watch and you’re probably the only other Captain in the Fleet who isn’t scared of Admiral Caroline Archer. Trust me on this, Chris, you won’t regret it.”_

-

Day 1

_“Who are you?”_

_“Ensign Damian Rydell, Captain. I- “_

_“Yes, you’re Admiral Archer’s youngest son.”_

_“-was recently transferred to_ Enterprise _to participate in your Command Training program.”_

_“Oh, very well Ensign. Dismissed.”_

-

Day 5

_“Ensign?”_

_“Yes, sir?”_

_“I apologise for jumping to conclusions the other day. It’s commendable that you want to advance under your own merits. Dr Boyce spoke highly of you.”_

_“Yes, sir, thank you. Am I dismissed?”_

_“Yes. Have a good day, Ensign Rydell.”_

-

Day 17

_“Captain, what is that?”_

_“Tea? Earl Grey I think. I just wanted to apologise again…”_

_“And you thought I’d like a cup of tea because I’m British?”_

_“Well…yes.”_

_“Thank you sir, but I can’t stand the stuff. I prefer coffee or hot chocolate…sometimes both.”_

-

Day 32

_“Rydell, what are you doing on the bridge?”_

_“You requested me, sir.”_

_“I requested the crew member with the highest marks in Astrophysics.”_

_“I have a Ph. D in Astrophysics, Captain.”_

_“Oh, well, you’ll be assisting Lieutenant Spock. Thank you, Rydell.”_

_“Yes, sir.”_

-

Day 48

_“How old are you, Rydell?”_

_“Twenty-five, Captain.”_

_“And you have a Ph. D in Astrophysics?”_

_“And in Robotic Engineering. I also have certifications in Navigation and ASCT from the Academy.”_

_“You’re a combat pilot?”_

_“Yes, sir.”_

_“Good, you can take over for Lieutenant Kybar while she recovers. I trust you know how to pilot a starship?”_

_“Yes, sir!”_

-

Day 53

_“Sir-“_

_”Everyone gets nervous their first time in the Chair...for you it’s a little more than the Captain’s Chair of a Starship, isn’t it?”_

_”I’m Jonathan Archer’s great-_ _grandson...this is the_ Enterprise _...”_

_”She’s just a starship, Ensign. Take your time, it helps to approach it in your own time.”_

-

Day 54

_“He’s just incredible, Arthur. He’s just such an amazing Captain and I’m learning so much-“_

_”Aw, it sounds like my baby brother finally got his first crush.”_

_”...what?”_

_”Ian, you’ve been talking about Captain Pike for over an hour. You haven’t spoken this much since you won the Bot Brawl.”_

-

Day 65

_“Where are you from, Ensign? Europe?”_

_“England, Oxford if you want to be specific. And you, sir?”_

_“California, North America. The Mojave specifically. Is something funny about that, Ensign?”_

_“No sir. It’s just I didn’t think anyone could live in a place like that except for Vulcans.”_

-

Day 87

_“It’s about your brother, Rydell. He was killed in the battle when the Europa was destroyed.”_

_“I know, Captain.”_

_“I’m very sorry, Rydell.”_

_“Are we at war, sir?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“I’m scared.”_

_“…so am I.”_

-

Day 88

_“We’ve been asked to stand down?”_

_“Ensign Rydell! This isn’t the time- “_

_“Those bastards killed my brother and hundreds of our comrades and you’re not letting us fight?”_

_“Don’t make this personal, Rydell!”_

_“They bloody well made it personal!”_

_“Get off of my bridge, Ensign! Before I confine you to the brig!”_

-

Day 89

_“It’s two in the morning, Rydell.”_

_“I couldn’t sleep, sir. I keep seeing him. Seeing Arthur. I didn’t want to be alone.”_

_“Your roommate…”_

_“He works the skeleton shift in Engineering, we aren’t close...I’m sorry for what happened on the bridge yesterday, sir. I was out of line._

_“Alright, come in.”_

_“What?”_

_“Come in, Rydell, I can’t sleep either. I guess we can keep each other company. Do you play chess?”_

_“How about a deck of cards, sir? I prefer Poker.”_

-

Day 91

_“Can I call you Damian?”_

_“Can I call you Christopher?”_

-

Day 95

_“I’ve never…been with anyone before.”_

_“If you don’t want to do this…”_

_“No, I want to. I just…I don’t know what I’m doing.”_

_“Here, let me show you.”_

-

Day 105

_“How is he?”_

_”Physically? Aside from the hair loss and toxic sludge I’m still draining from his blood, he’s just got a few scrapes and bruises.”_

_”And mentally?”_

_”I don’t know.”_

_”You know everything, Phil.”_

_”I’m not a psychologist. He was held captive and experimented on for over a week by the Aurem, I pulled a needle as thick as a toothpick and three times as long out of his arm. How he stopped screaming long enough to build that transmitter, I’ll never know. He’s a tough kid, tougher than most. I told you you’d like him.”_

_”Whether he likes me when he wakes up is another matter. I told him to go down there.”_

_”He was following orders. If he thought he would get special treatment for sleeping with you...”_

_”You know he’s not like that...what?”_

_”You really like him, don’t you?”_

_”Is it that obvious?”_

_”Yes. Also you’re an open book when you’re exhausted...he’s had a hard time of it, Chris. Try not to pull your bullshit with this one?”_

_“I‘ll...I’ll try, Phil.”_

_“You’ve been panicking since we got word the away team was killed. Sit down, you’re off duty until you get at least twelve hours of solid sleep.”_

-

Day 107

_“How are you feeling?”_

_“Egg-like.”_

_“It’s not so bad, Dami.”_

_“I don’t even have eyebrows, Christopher.”_

_“It’ll grow back, I don’t care. So long as you’re still here I don’t care what you look like.”_

_“Be careful, I could grow extra limbs or a second head before this is over.”_

_“More of you to admire, then.”_

_“Wow, you suck, sir.”_

_“Only for you, though.”_

-

Day 117

_“It’s blue.”_

_“What?”_

_“My hair. It’s growing back blue.”_

_“I’ll call Phil.”_

-

Day 128

_“I kind of like it.”_

_“You kind of like that my DNA was altered and now every follicle of hair on my body is growing back blue?”_

_“It brings out your eyes.”_

_“I don’t know what to say about that.”_

_“Thank you would be a good place to start? I just complimented you.”_

_“I don’t feel like being complimented.”_

_“Too bad.”_

-

Day 141

_“I look like a blueberry.”_

_“I was going to say a Smurf, but blueberry works, Dami.”_

-

Day 142

_“Good morning, Blueberry.”_

_“Oh, I hate you.”_

_“No you don’t.”_

-

Day 164

_“I wish you’d let me in.”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“Nothing. Go back to sleep, Blueberry.”_

-

Day 179

_“Do you think we’ll win?”_

_“I don’t know.”_

_“What happens if we lose?”_

_“I don’t know.”_

_“What happens to us after the war?”_

_“I’ll never let them separate us.”_

_“Promise?”_

_“I promise.”_

-

Day 184

_“How are you awake? You drank more than what you weigh last night.”_

_“We have to be on the bridge in an hour.”_

_“I already signed off on your promotion, Lieutenant, you don’t have to keep impressing me.”_

_“Well if I want to get the next promotion I’d better shape up.”_

_“You’re not human. Go back to sleep, Dami.”_

_“What gave it away? The blue hair?”_

_“Your work ethic.”_

_“How did you become the captain of a Starship?”_

_“My work ethic, but right now I’m too hung over to care.”_

-

Day 204

_“Hey there, Starlight.”_

_”Starlight?”_

_”You call me Blueberry, so why can’t I call you Starlight?”_

_”I won’t complain. But why?”_

_”The silver in your hair.”_

_”Thanks, Dami.”_

_”And the way you smile at the stars when you think I’m not looking.”_

-

Day 258

_“I think we should tell Number One.”_

_”You mean she doesn’t already know?”_

_”I thought you’d like to know who knew about us.”_

_”Oh...you can tell her, if you want. I guess she should know, right?”_

-

Day 301

_“When we get back to Earth- “_

_“If.”_

_“When we get back to Earth, I’m going to take you home to Mojave. Mom’s going to love you.”_

_“What about your dad?”_

_“Can you quote bible scripture and recite Newton’s laws?”_

_“In Latin, English or German?”_

_“He’s going to love you too, Dami.”_

-

Day 367

_“Damian, I’m so sorry.”_

_“No.”_

_“Dami- “_

_“She’s not dead. She’s not…”_

_“Star Base One was attacked, there were no survivors. Damian, your sister…”_

_“Leave me alone.”_

_“Blueberry…”_

_“Leave me alone!”_

-

Day 374

_“Can I come in?”_

_“No.”_

_“I can override this door, you know.”_

_“But you won’t.”_

_“No, I won’t. Can I come in anyway?”_

_“…fine.”_

_“How is it you’ve spent nearly every night in my bed and I’ve never seen your Quarters?”_

_“Captain…”_

_“You can call me Christopher, even here…are you packing?”_

_“I’m putting my transfer request in tomorrow, I’m going to join a ship that’s actually going to blow up some Klingons.”_

_“Dami, I can’t let you…”_

_“Can’t let me do what? Fight? I’m a combat pilot, Christopher! I should be on a ship that’s fighting! It’s what Starfleet trained me to do!”_

_“They also trained you to build robots, perform complex equations, and speak seventeen different languages! One of them is Klingon!”_

_“Good! I can tell them they killed both my siblings before I blow them to hell!”_

_“You’re angry.”_

_“Really? Did they give you a medal for exceptional obviousness too? They killed my brother in the Battle of the Binary Stars and they killed my sister when they took Star Base One! I want to kill some of them before they win the fucking war!”_

_“And you think I don’t want to fight too? I am stuck on the edge of the galaxy while my friends, people I’ve known since I was at the Academy, die and suffer! I am exhausted, and losing you…”_

_“…Christopher?”_

_“Losing you would break me, Damian.”_

_“You want me to stay.”_

_“Of course I want you to stay, but I won’t stop you. And if we survive…I hope we can still have something together.”_

-

Day 382

_“Dami?”_

_“Can I come in?”_

_“It’s three in the morning.”_

_“I know.”_

_“I thought you were leaving tomorrow?”_

_“I…I don’t want to. Actually I want to, but I want to stay on Enterprise more. I want to…I want to stay with you.”_

_“You would have had me if you left or stayed, Blueberry.”_

_“…I don’t think I would have. Can I stay?”_

_“On the ship?”_

_“Here.”_

_“Always.”_

-

Day 422

_“Last time I saw you look at someone like that, it was the day you and Abigail got married.”_

_“I’ve had other relationships since then.”_

_“Any you’ve never looked at any of them like you look at Brainy Smurf.”_

_“Don’t call him that, Phil, he hates it.”_

_“And you know what, Chris?”_

_“What?”_

_“I’ve never seen anyone look at you like Dami does.”_

-

Day 442

_“It’s over. The war’s over.”_

-

Day 500

_“You made Evan Connolly your new Science Officer?”_

_“He’s the most qualified scientist in his division.”_

_“He’s a bloody moron.”_

_“You’re jealous.”_

_“I am but that’s beside the point. There’s five other perfectly qualified scientists aboard this ship who would make better science officers!”_

_“Are you one of them?”_

_“No but I’m more qualified than Connelly!”_

_“We agreed I wouldn’t show you favouritism, Lieutenant.”_

_“I lied I want four promotions and a commendation.”_

_“For what?”_

_“Being your boyfriend.”_

_“Not good enough, and I can’t tell Connolly I want someone else as my Science Officer because my blue haired boyfriend thinks he’s a moron.”_

_“Knows. I know he’s a moron.”_

_“Dami-What the hell was that?”_

-

-

“Dami-what the hell was that?” Chris shouted as the ship jerked violently, causing them both to reel forward. He picked himself up from the floor and crawled to his feet, reaching out to help Damian stand.

“It feels like the ship just fell out of warp,” Damian replied, moving over to a computer terminal. “What the fuck is…I can’t access the system.”

“It won’t let you in?” Chris asked.

“No, it’s…it’s like the entire system has shut down, everything is failing _catastrophically_. Navigation, communications, warp capabilities are offline as a safety precaution," the younger man said, pushing his already unruly blue hair out of his eyes.

“Life support?”

“No, they’re on a separate network,” Damian told him. “Sir- “

“We need to get to the bridge. Are the turbo lifts…”

“Same system as life support and transport. If we cut through the mess we’ll get there faster,” Damian's hand wrapped around Chris’ wrist and he tugged. “Don’t tell the others though, it’s how we get an extra ten minutes of sleep and still make it to the bridge before you finish breakfast.”

“What?” Chris exclaimed, watching a spark of mischief fill those big, dark eyes as they moved through the mess and down the corridor, finally coming onto the turbo lift and stepping inside.

They came up onto the bridge and Chris felt Damian shift, it was slight and barely noticeable, but it’s something Chris admired about the younger man, and why he had continued their relationship. Damian stopped being himself when he stepped onto the bridge, any issues and concerns he had before stepping out of the turbo lift melted away. As far as Damian was concerned, their personal relationship, and any personal problems they might be having, didn’t exist on the bridge.

Damian went straight to his terminal, muttering to himself as he tried to assess the systems, and Chris sat in the chair and asked for a status report.

“Was it the signals?” He asked.

“No, sir,” Connolly said. “Enterprise just…stopped. I can’t get a hold on what systems are working and what aren’t.”

“Life support, the turbo lifts and transport still work,” Damian said absently. “Sir, navigation is shut down but warp is still operational, I can manually pilot us for a few light-years at a time at warp three.”

“It would take us a year to get to our destination at that speed!” Connolly said. “And no one can pilot a Starship at warp!”

“I can!”

“Shut up Brainy Smurf- “

“ _Connolly_ ,” Chris snapped. “Rydell is still a member of this crew and this isn’t high school, I won’t have you bullying my helmsman.”

Chris was thankful that no one aside from Number One knew about their relationship.

“ _Can_ you pilot us at warp, Rydell?” He turned to Damian , who had that determined furrow forming between his eyebrows.

“Only for a few minutes, then we’d need to stop to adjust position,” Damian said. “I’ve done it before with a shuttle.”

“This is a Starship, it’s a little bigger than a shuttle,” Chris pointed out. “I don’t want to crash into an asteroid.”

“I can do it, but Connolly is right,” Damian twitched, it must have hurt to admit that. “It’d take us a year to reach our destination at that speed, and we’d definitely crash if we tried to move any faster without navigation systems.”

“Find a way to get communications back online,” Chris ordered. “We need to get in contact with Starfleet before our life support systems shut off as well. Number One…”

“Sir, a signal has managed to get through, it’s spotty but-“ Dox said, and a static image of Admiral Cornwell appeared on the main screen.

_“Captain Pike.”_

“Admiral,” Chris nodded. “I’m requesting assistance immediately, Enterprise has- “

_“We know, I’m here to tell you to report directly to the USS Discovery to take over as Captain under regulation nineteen, section C. Immediately, Captain, we can’t lose these signals.”_

“Yes, Admiral.”

Cornwell cut out, and Chris stared at the screen where she had been for a long moment before his eyes slid to where Damian was still running diagnostics from his terminal.

“Lieutenant Rydell,” He called. “Discovery is just a few hundred light-years from us, can you get us there?”

Damian shook himself, snapping back to reality as he began punching in commands in his terminal. “Yes, sir,” he said.

“Hit it.”

-

Damian chewed on his lip, agitated, as he glared at the infuriating man in front of him.

“Explain to me again why I’m not coming with you,” he said, even though he had Christopher’s reasons memorised.

“Because I need you here with Una,” Christopher replied, reading through his orders on a PADD one final time. “Because Discovery’s crew has been through hell, and because we agreed I wouldn’t show you favouritism.”

“It’s not favouritism,” Damian protested. “You’ve said it yourself, you barely sleep at night when I’m not there.”

“I don’t need a teddy bear, Blueberry,” Christopher retorted. “And once _Enterprise_ is up and running again, I’ll be back on board and you and Connolly can go back to acting like children.”

“He starts it,” Damian muttered, irritated. “Promise you’ll call. Every night.”

“I’ll try my best,” Christopher said.

“No, _promise_ ,” Damian insisted. “I know you’ve been dreaming about Rigel VII and the Talosians again.”

“How…”

“You talk in your sleep,” he shrugged. “Sometimes it’s about me so I stay up and listen. Lately it hasn’t, not since Spock left. Promise you’ll call if something happens? Promise you’ll call if nothing happens, even. Just…I’ve never not seen you every day.”

Christopher’s face softened and he stepped into Damian personal space and pressed his lips against his own, sliding warm fingers through his blue hair as his other hand found Damian and tangled their fingers together firmly.

Damian savoured how close Christopher was, breathing in his scent. Sandalwood and Lemongrass, he mused, and almost whined in ever growing irritation when they parted.

“Every day,” Christopher promised, still gripping his hand. “I’ll miss you, Dami.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Damian smiled. “And one more thing?”

“Yes?”

“Leave Connolly on Discovery when you come back.”

“No,” Christopher kissed his hairline, grinning. “Behave.”

“You first,” Damian retorted, and they kissed once more, this time a little desperate, before Christopher was gone. Damian felt cold without the other man’s radiating heat and blinked back stinging tears. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, then turned on his heel and stepped out of Christopher’s quarters.

Number One was in the Chair when he got to the bridge, just in time to see Discovery disappear into the black. “Lieutenant,” she called, and then her voice softened. “Dami, are you able to serve on the bridge today?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied curtly. “Captain Pike said you’d need me.”

“See if you can’t find out what broke the ship while we wait for Starfleet to send someone to tow us,” Number One suggested.

“Aye, Commander.”

-

Damian punched in the code to the Captain’s quarters and stepped inside once the doors hissed open, eyes heavy and his brain aching from the hours upon hours of fruitless diagnostics he’d been running on the ship’s systems. Everything _should_ be working perfectly, but something was preventing the system from operating and he couldn’t _find it_.

He collapsed face first on the plush, orange and purple futon Christopher had in lieu of a couch and groaned into the fabric, letting his body relax as he inhaled deeply enough that his lungs strained against his rib cage and exhaled slowly, almost dizzy from it by the time he took his next breath.

The communicator dinged just as he was starting to drift off, and he swore at it loudly before sitting up. “Answer,” He said loudly enough for the computer to register his voice.

Christopher’s face appeared on the monitor and he smiled tiredly. “Hello,” he said softly.

 _“Long day?”_ Christopher teased.

“Una had me run diagnostics from the moment you left to about half an hour ago,” Damian explained as he noticed what Christopher was wearing. “Why are you in the old uniform?”

 _“Starfleet wants me to stay on Discovery and investigate these signals until Enterprise is operational,”_ Christopher explained. _“It led us to a crashed Medical frigate in an asteroid field, there was an engineer aboard who’d been keeping the patients alive for almost ten months.”_

“I’m sure Connolly would have had some snide comment about how the engineer should have done things,” Damian replied, pushing back his irritation at Christopher’s extended stay on the Discovery, and watched as Christopher’s face twisted into something sad and morose. “What’s wrong?”

 _“Connolly…he was killed trying to get to the frigate, smashed to pieces in the asteroid field,”_ Christopher told him, his voice gentle. _“If he’d just listened to me, he might have…”_

Damian shot across the main room of Christopher’s quarters and into the head, dropping to his knees in front of the toilet just as his stomach decided to empty itself of the dinner he’d forced himself to eat not ten minutes ago. Back in the main room he could hear Christopher calling his name and he pressed his forehead against the cool seat and felt a choked sob bubble from his already aching throat.

As much as he’d disliked Connolly, he never thought the man deserved to die.

 _Leave Connolly on Discovery when you come back_ , his own words from the morning echoed in his head and nausea twisted his insides once again.

He wiped his mouth on a discarded shirt that hadn’t been collected by the laundry unit and staggered to his feet, feeling clammy and cold as he stepped out of the head. Christopher looked at him guiltily and he swallowed thickly.

“I didn’t hate him,” he said, unable to think of something better to say.

 _“I know, Dami,”_ Christopher replied, and then looked at something off screen. _“I’ll call you back in a moment.”_

“Alright,” the screen blinked off and he shut his eyes as he pressed against his forehead with the heel of his palms. He felt wired but exhausted at the same time as when the groundskeeper died when he was a child, and he knew he wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight.

The minutes ticked by at a snail’s pace, though they might have been hours because when he next opened his eyes he was lying on his side and there was a strong, broad chest pressed against his back and an arm around his waist.

“Good morning,” Christopher rumbled, his lips against the base of Damian's skull.

Damian's eyes snapped open and he sat up, twisting to stare at Christopher, who groaned and rolled onto his back, one hand draped over his eyes when the lights brightened almost painfully as the sensors registered they were both moving.

“Next time I’m leaving you on the futon and taking the bed,” Christopher grumbled. “Why were you sleeping on this thing anyway?”

“What are you doing on the ship?” Damian retorted.

“I’m the Captain?”

“Christopher.”

Christopher sat up, looking rumpled and sleepy with his hair falling over his forehead. Damian smiled and reached up to comb it back with his fingers, and Christopher gripped his hand and pressed his lips against Damian's pulse.

“Commander Burnham wanted to see Spock’s Quarters,” he said. “I decided to keep Discovery docked for the night and found you asleep.”

“You could have woken me,” Damian replied, and ran his thumb over Christopher’s cheekbone.

“I was tired,” Christopher shrugged. “I missed you, Blueberry.”

Damian felt a smile tug at his lips at the pet name and leaned in to press his lips against Christopher’s. “How long do I have you?” He asked.

“An hour,” Christopher said. “Maybe two. Hmm, why do you always smell like cinnamon and sugar?”

“It’s my sweet disposition,” Damian retorted, and received a laugh for his efforts as he pushed Christopher back against the futon and swung his leg over the other man’s waist. “Now how do you open these jerseys again?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Damian woke alone for the second time in months and stared blankly at the empty space where Christopher would normally be. He imagined the other man’s sleep mussed hair and faint snoring and felt an ache deep in his chest that Christopher was so far away.

He reluctantly got out of bed and quickly showered and changed into civilian clothing. Half way through dressing he realised the shirt he’d picked out of his bag belonged to Christopher and sighed, then stepped outside into the controlled chaos of Starbase Four.

“Lieutenant!” Ensign Mallory called, falling into step beside him. “Oh man, isn’t Starbase Four beautiful! Did you know it’s got an ecosystem that provides natural oxygen?”

“It is extraordinary, isn’t it,” Damian replied. “Why are you still in uniform, Ensign?”

“Oh, Commander Gene had me reassigned to the _Tubman_ since there’s nothing for me to do on the Starbase,” Mallory explained excitedly. “She’s no _Enterprise_ , of course, but Captain Alyssa is, like, _so amazing_. I just wanted to say goodbye before I left. Did Number One reassign you, too?”

“Captain Pike told me Number One would need me before he left for _Discovery_ ,” Damian shrugged. “As of now I’m on leave with the rest of the crew not reassigned or essential to fixing whatever the hell broke the _Enterprise_. You’d best hurry up, Ensign, or the _Tubman_ will leave without you.”

Mallory’s eyes widened in horror and she stumbled off into the crowds.

He turned down a hallway and picked out the door he was searching for and stepped inside.

“You’re early,” Una said.

Damian shrugged and dropped into the chair in front of her desk. Una was still in uniform, impeccable as always as she scanned through a PADD. “I signed off on your request to take over the CTP,” she said. “You’ll be working with the applicants along side Commander Jesper.”

“Commander Jesper is a dinosaur,” Damian replied with a scowl.

“He’s not that old.”

“He’s ninety-four.”

Una gave him a look. “It’s that or you stay on leave,” she said. “Or you take a transfer. You’re the best pilot in Starfleet, Dami. You’d have your pick of the Fleet.”

“I want a position on _Discovery_ ,” Damian replied.

“They have a pilot.”

“I’m an engineer, too.”

“They have a full crew, and if Pike wanted you aboard he would have asked you to come. Your mother’s old command, the _Persephone_ , is scheduled for a refit and needs a new helmsman,” Una handed him the request. “Once _Enterprise_ is back online you can-“

“And if the Captain needs me…”

“Then I’ll tell him where he can find you. Chris would still be your Captain, his orders would outweigh any given by another,” Una told him. “You’ll go insane here, Dami. You’re not made to sit still while the world turns around you. He wouldn’t want you miserable like this.”

“If he didn’t want me miserable he would have let me transfer aboard _Discovery_ ,” Damian muttered, bitter. When Christopher had left _Enterprise_ two days ago, he’d assumed he would be going back to _Discovery_ with him but Christopher cited one of their Rules. _No Favouritism_. “I’ll stay on leave, I have schematics I can work on when I’m not with the CTP.”

Una withdrew the request and looked at him with knowing eyes. “It’s not like he’s never coming back, kid,” she pointed out.

“I’m not used to not seeing him,” Damian told her. “And he’s not calling. It’s been two days since he went back to _Discovery_ and…he doesn’t sleep well by himself.”

“I can’t persuade you to _at_ _least_ take a couple of weeks piloting a supply frigate?” Una pressed.

“No,” Damian stood, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Am I dismissed, Commander?”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

-

He was aching and sweaty when he returned to his quarters, well after the Starbase had dimmed its lights for the night cycle. He threw his jacket onto the desk and tumbled over the back of the couch, stretching his back until it popped. The couch was uncomfortable and too short for him to stretch out his six foot frame comfortably, so he rolled off and made his way to the head.

The sonic was refreshing, but did nothing to ease the ache in his muscles. He quickly brushed his teeth, the silence of the evening as crushing and deafening as the last two nights had been, and he stepped back into the bedroom as his comm began to ping.

“Answer,” he called.

The hologram of Admiral Cornwell appeared in front of him.

“Admiral,” he greeted.

 _“Lieutenant, Number One tells me you’ve been certified as a CTP Officer,”_ Cornwell said. _“I’m sure Commander Jesper appreciates the help.”_

“He likes that I can keep up with the recruits,” Damian shrugged. All he’d done since the morning was run laps in preparation for the marathon. “What can I do for you, Admiral? Is my mother trying to convince me to join another ship?”

 _“Sort of, Lieutenant. But this comes from me, not Sophia,”_ Cornwell replied. _“I’m ordering you to take over the CTP program aboard the USS_ Discovery _effective immediately.”_

Damian's heart thudded in his chest. “Captain Pike requested me, ma’am?” He asked.

 _“Captain Pike put in a request for a CTP officer, Number One recommended you,”_ Cornwell said. _“I’ve sent coordinates where you’re to meet up with_ Discovery _to your terminal and organised a shuttle. You’ve come highly recommended, Lieutenant, I hope you don’t disappoint.”_

Cornwell’s image blinked out of view, and Damian stood there staring at the wall for a long moment, his thoughts racing as he tried to process the information thrust upon him.

He felt the grin spread across his face and quickly gathered his things and changed into his uniform, but found his Delta missing.

 _Where is it_ , he thought, upending his bag onto the bed. His belongings spread out on the dull coloured sheets and he sifted through shirts, pens, robot pieces and loose data chips for the little gold pin.

Without it, he knew, he’d be unable to leave Starbase Four.

He started repacking his bag slowly, folding and searching each item as it went inside. The pace was irritatingly boring and seemingly fruitless until he lifted an old pair of socks and found the gold Delta shoved inside.

He repacked the rest of his belongs without care and left his quarters for the shuttle bay. As promised, there was a shuttle already warming on the deck, and he stowed his luggage before taking the controls.

Damian had been a pilot since he was a child; he’d flown old world planes, starships, and artillery frigates, but nothing compared to the rawness of a shuttle under his hands. It rumbled as he primed its engines, jerking slighting with the removal of its dampeners, and he steadily manoeuvred it up and out of the bay with ease.

His eyes were met by the vastness of space and he smiled.

 _“Opportunity-Two, you’re clear for warp,”_ Starbase Four’s operator chimed over the comm. _“Safe travels, Lieutenant.”_

Damian plugged in the coordinates Cornwell sent him and brought the shuttle to warp, making minor adjustments as the small shuttle soared through the stars.

It was almost two hours before he reached the meeting point, an empty section of space between two dwarf stars, and put the shuttle into idle as before unloading his bag from the compartment. _I’ll beam aboard and leave the shuttle to pilot itself back to Starbase Four_ , he decided, and watched impatiently from the pilot’s seat for Discovery to arrive.

The ship appeared with the deep bang that accompanied a ship dropping out of warp, and went idle; immediately the shuttle’s sensors alerted him to its arrival, and an unfamiliar voice came through the comm. _“This is Commander Saru of the USS_ Discovery _, identify yourself.”_

“Lt. Damian Rydell, I’ve been assigned to _Discovery_ as its CTP Officer,” he replied, forwarding his credentials and orders. “I was sent by Admiral Cornwell.”

A moment passed. _“Very well, Lieutenant, prepare for transport,”_ Commander Saru acknowledged. Damian set the timer on the autopilot and stepped up onto the transport pad after setting the coordinates.

“Energise.”

His vision went white, and he found himself in an unfamiliar transporter room facing a Kelpien in Command Gold. Damian frowned and stepped off the transporter pad towards the alien.

“Lieutenant Rydell, I presume,” the Kelpien said. “I am Commander Saru…I apologise for our previous interaction. Captain Pike had not informed me of your arrival.”

Damian frowned. “Not a problem, Commander,” he replied. “I only just received my orders a few hours ago, I assume you only received coordinates to this location?”

“You would be correct, Lieutenant,” Saru nodded, and they fell into step beside each other as Saru lead him down the halls of _Discovery_. It was a remarkable ship, far more advanced than _Enterprise_. “Now, you will have to return your hair to its natural colour as-“

“My DNA was genetically modified during my time on _Enterprise_ , Commander,” Damian interrupted, and knew he’d feel like a broken record before the end of the week. “This is my natural colour. You can check my medical records for clarification.”

“Ah,” Saru was obviously one to follow strict Starfleet Protocol. “My apologies, Lieutenant.”

Damian shrugged. “You’re not the first one to make assumptions, sir,” he smiled as they stepped into the turbo lift. “What deck is the Captain’s quarters on?”

“Surely you’d prefer to go to your own quarters, Lieutenant? It’s quite late,” Saru suggested. “In any case, Captain Pike is still recovering from injuries sustained in the line of duty.”

Damian felt his heart drop out of his chest, his fingers clenched around the strap of his bag and he swallowed tight around anxiety crawling up the back of his throat. “What happened?” he asked, trying not to let his breathing accelerate.

“An overloading Phaser went off in his chest,” Saru said. “He survived, but the ship’s doctor has been unable to get him to take the time off he needs for his ribs to heal.”

“So he’s been on duty with broken ribs and phaser burns?” Damian clarified.

“Essentially, yes,” Saru replied.

Damian nodded as the turbo lift opened. “I’ll find my way from here, Commander,” he said. “Captain Pike and I are…quite close. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see me.”

“Very well, Lieutenant,” Saru nodded. “Good evening, and welcome aboard.”

Heart racing, Damian found the Captain’s Quarters quickly and punched in his access code, feeling some of the building tension release as it was accepted and the door hissed open quietly. Inside was dark, lifeless, but became dimly illuminated as he stepped through the door. He dropped his bag over the back of a grey velvet sofa and reached up to unclip his collar and pull open the jacket of his uniform as he headed towards the bedroom door on the far side of the living area.

Inside was a few degrees colder than the rest of the ship, not too much to be uncomfortable but enough that it wouldn’t be out of the question to have heavy blankets on the bed, which was just how Christopher liked it.

The man in question was lying in the centre of a mass of thick grey blankets and black sheets, shirtless save for the bandages wrapped around his chest. He was sweating but not from the heat, his sleeping features creased in obvious discomfort and his salt-and-pepper hair plastered unflatteringly to his scalp.

Damian's heart broke and swelled as he took in the sight of the man he loved, and felt his eyes sting with relieved tears as Christopher’s chest expanded in a shaky breath.

Damian crouched at his bedside and reached out with tentative fingers to stroke some of the sweaty strands back from his forehead, but as his fingers brushed against Christopher’s heated skin, blue-grey eyes flickered open and stared blearily ahead.

Christopher muttered something that sounded like “Blueberry” in a raspy tone and Damian leaned forward and pressed his lips against the older man’s forehead, both reassuring his presence and checking his temperature. Christopher was definitely developing a fever.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he murmured, petting his hair and smiling. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up, Starlight.”

Christopher blinked once, twice, and his eyes glazed over and closed a final time and didn’t open again.

Once he was sure Christopher was truly asleep, Damian stood and stepped out of Chris’ bedroom, going straight to his bag and pulling out his tricorder. He plugged in the commands and turned the volume as low as it would go as he reentered the bedroom and found Christopher drooling into his pillow.

 _Charming_ , Damian thought with a grin, and realised quite suddenly that he _did_ find it charming.

He scanned the unconscious man quickly, transferring the data to a PADD before leaving the Captain’s Quarters entirely.

“I’m looking for the doctor who treated Captain Pike?” He said to the first person he saw as he entered Medical, a human woman standing by the bedside of a Tellarite female.

“Speaking,” she said, turning to look at him. “I’m Dr. Pollard, and you are…”

“Damian Rydell,” he introduced, handing over the PADD. “I was just visiting the Captain and he’s barely conscious and developing a fever, I thought I’d better come here before making any emergency assumptions about his health. I’m a close friend.”

Pollard scowled down at the device and Damian immediately felt the need to apologise. _She’d get along well with Dr. Boyce_ , he decided.

“Captain Pike disobeyed my instructions for strict bed rest almost immediately after I prescribed them,” she told him as he followed her deeper into medical. “How Phil Boyce has kept him alive until now is beyond me.”

Damian laughed at that. “Dr. Boyce once threatened to call Captain Pike’s grandmother on Earth after a particularly hairy incident involving carnivorous plants,” he recalled, “so Pike could explain to her why her grandson almost lost both his arms.”

“Sounds like a good tactic,” Pollard agreed, and handed him a series of five hyposprays. “Give him these two immediately, this one directly to his injury and this one to the side of his neck. The next three are to be taken every twenty four hours after eating, understand?”

Damian took the sprays and committed the order to memory. “Yes, ma’am,” he nodded curtly.

“If his fever doesn’t improve in twenty-four hours, call me and then when he’s better we’ll call his grandmother,” Pollard told him. “And Rydell?”

“Yes?”

“I knew your brother at the Academy,” she said. “I was sorry to hear he died.”

“Oh, he didn’t die, ma’am,” Damian said, voice flat. “The Klingons murdered him.”

-

Chris dreamed of Damian, which was a vast improvement from the bloodied castle halls and Talosian mind invasions that normally filled his dreams. He dreamed of royal blue hair threaded through his fingers, fine as gossamer, of dark eyes ablaze with brilliant curiosity. Of smooth, tan skin under his hands, tracing freckles along narrow shoulder blades with his lips.

It was a good dream, and his heart ached underneath his ribs when his eyes opened to an empty room aboard _Discovery_. Perhaps more than his ribs themselves ached.

He laid there silently, contemplating calling Commander Saru and giving him the Chair for the day, if only to postpone moving and jostling his ribs as he pushed back the ever present ache in his heart from being so far away from the man he loved. He hadn’t called since they left Terralysium so Damian wouldn’t worry about him, but now all he wanted was to hear the younger man’s voice.

Even if it was just going to be shouted at him for who knows how long.

Suddenly his bedroom door hissed open and he twisted roughly to see who it was when sharp, white pain shot though his body and he curled in on himself, clutching his ribs with an agonised groan.

“You’re an idiot,” a familiar voice chided. “But you’re _my_ idiot so I’ll let it slide for now.”

“Dami?” He managed, and the man in question moved into his field of vision, perfect and real and tangible. Damian smiled, almost black eyes twinkling as he sat at Chris’ bedside and ran a hand through Chris’ hair.

“Hey,” he murmured. “You were pretty out of it when I got here last night.”

“I must have been tired,” Chris replied.

Damian raised an eyebrow at him. “Or it might have something to do with you ignoring Dr. Pollard’s orders for two days?” he suggested. “Your burns were infected and you were developing a fever. You’re lucky I got here when I did.”

Chris sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He didn’t quite trust Damian not to whack him in his weakened state. “My hero,” he said instead.

Damian huffed and stood, gripping his arm gently. “Come on, you’ve got to eat something before you take this hypo.”

“I can’t go down to the mess like this,” Chris protested as Damian helped him sit up, and sucked in a breath as pain shot through his rib cage. “I can barely put on a shirt!”

“Good thing I was getting breakfast while you were lying here drooling, Starlight,” Damian retorted, gesturing to the meal cart positioned at the end of his bed. Chris felt his heart thump at the rare petname. “I’m thinking…eggs, bacon, mushrooms? Maybe some fruit?”

“You’re the only fruit I need, Blueberry,” Chris said, and grinned when Damian heaved a great sigh and gave him a withering look.

Damian stood and wheeled the tray to his bedside. On it were two plates, one was filled with scrambled eggs, bacon, mushrooms (butter fried with garlic), crispy hash browns and a small bowl of fruit to the side with blueberries mixed in. The other plate had chocolate chip pancakes, whipped cream, powdered sugar and some kind of mixed berry sauce with a muffin to the side.

“How is it you eat that every day and look like you do?” Chris asked, baffled. If he ate that even once he’d be working off the sugar and fat for a month.

“British stubbornness,” Damian replied smugly, dragging his desk chair in from the main room and sitting on the other side of the tray. He reached up and undid the collar of his uniform and for the first time Chris noticed Damian was wearing Discovery’s uniform of blue and gold, with an Academy delta on his collar in bright copper.

For the first time Chris stopped marvelling that his lover was here, and wondered _why_.

“I didn’t approve your transfer,” he said flatly.

Damian paused in shovelling syrup soaked pancakes into his mouth, brows furrowed.

“You requested a CTP Officer, Number One recommended me and I accepted,” he said pointedly. “Cornwell gave me my orders and I came out here straight away.”

Chris knew he never requested a CTP Officer, also he knew he _couldn’t_ have requested a CTP Officer since he’d been unconscious for the last fourteen hours.

_Unless…_

“Ensign Tilly,” he murmured.

Damian's eyebrow rose, an expression that was more British than Vulcan in its execution. “Pardon?” he asked.

Chris rubbed his forehead. “Yesterday I _may_ have mentioned to my First Officer that I might have trouble keeping up with the recruits of the CTP given I was literally hunched over the arm of the Chair,” he recalled. “An overzealous Ensign named Sylvia Tilly, who’s entirely too eager to please, might have overheard me. She’s been a little…excited with all her new power as a CTP Recruit and must have put in the request to ‘Fleet Command.”

“I like her already,” Damian teased. Chris frowned at him and Damian raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning brilliantly. “Oi, you were the one who wouldn’t do what the doctor said. I’m just here to whip these Ensigns into strapping young officers while you look for your bloody red things.”

“I could order you to leave, you know,” Chris pointed out, and started into his breakfast before it got cold.

“I could refuse to have sex with you, you know,” Damian retorted, and shoved the fork into his mouth like a starving man. Chris watched as Damian devoured the pancakes at a speed that should have been disgusting, but found himself enamoured by the sight and realised this with a resounding feeling of love thrumming through his chest.

He knew he couldn’t send Damian away, not after feeling nauseous and empty since he left the younger man on _Enterprise_ two days before. And Damian was, without question, the best person to run the CTP aboard _Discovery_.

 _Next to the Archers, the Rydells are the closest thing Starfleet has to nobility_ , Robert April told him once. _You watch, one day you’ll be begging to have one in your crew._

 _And now I have one in my bed_ , Chris thought.

“Stay?” he said simply.

Damian looked up at him through fine strands of blue hair and smiled. “Here?” he asked, and leaned across the cart to kiss him gently.

Chris smiled in return. “Where else?”

“Of course.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while to be posted, I've been having some trouble with my computer. I'm getting a new one in a few weeks and then regular updates will continue.
> 
> if you see any mistakes please tell me!

_Michael Burnham_

Tilly fell into step beside Michael and grinned. “Did you hear?” She asked, practically vibrating.

“No?” Michael replied. It must be something good to have Tilly in this state. “Don’t tell me, Saru cancelled the marathon?”

“I _wish_ ,” Tilly groaned. “No, _Discovery_ has a new CTP Officer. And he’s a Rydell.”

Michael frowned. “A Rydell?” She repeated, inquiring. “You mean like Admiral Caroline Rydell?”

“Well, she’s an Archer,” Tilly explained. “But she married into the Rydells. No, I’m talking like, an _actual_ Rydell. How cool is that? I get to learn from someone who’s born and bred for command!”

Michael smiled. “Very cool,” she agreed. “What’s their name?”

“Uh…I don’t know,” Tilly admitted. “All I got from the memo was to meet _Lt. Rydell_ on the bridge right before shift. It can’t be Arthur Rydell since, y’know, he _died_ in the Binaries.”

Michael had known Commander Arthur Rydell; talented, charismatic and brilliant, he’d been First Officer to Admiral Andersen and was killed alongside him on the _Europa_ when its antimatter containment field was breached.

They entered the turbo lift together and arrived on the bridge. The Captain was already there, but no one was at their stations, instead they were talking to a tall, lean man roughly the same height as the Captain with wild rich blue hair and dark eyes.

“Oh my god that’s Damian Rydell,” Tilly squeaked.

Michael raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t know?” Tilly said, shocked. “He’s the best robotics engineer in, like, a hundred years. He’s the undefeated champion of the Academy’s Brawl of the Bots, I entered one year and all my robot did was scratch the other one’s-“

“Ensign Tilly,” Captain Pike said suddenly, waving them over. “Commander Burnham, I’d like you to meet Da-“

“Lt Damian Rydell,” Tilly said, breathless and blushing. “Wow, you’re a _Rydell_ , like, an _actual Rydell_. I wrote my entrance essay to the Academy on your great Aunt Marie Rydell, she was my hero when I was a kid. Next to Jonathan Archer, of course, who was your…great grandfather. _Wow_.”

Rydell blinked.

“Did you know you have _a lot_ of freckles?” Tilly blurted out. “I mean, of course you know, they’re your freckles. On your face. Which is a very nice face by the-“

“Ensign, I need you to input Lt Rydell’s biometrics into _Discovery_ ’s systems,” Pike interrupted gently. “Full access, I’ve already forwarded the correct permissions to your terminal.”

“Yes, sir,” Tilly nodded and promptly turned and marched over to her terminal, obviously nervous.

Rydell followed and Michael caught a brief flash of irritation on the young man’s features.

“He’s not as bad as he seems,” Pike told her quietly. “Well, Spock doesn’t like him, but that’s because he keeps beating Spock at Poker.”

“ _Spock_ plays poker?” Michael said, shocked.

“Not very well,” Pike replied with a shrug and a half smile. “As I said, Rydell’s not as bad as he seems as long as you’re not unintelligent. He and Connolly clashed but…”

Tilly suddenly started laughing, almost doubled over, and Rydell was snickering along side her. Out of the corner of her eye, Michael caught a flash of fondness cross the Captain’s features before he quickly schooled his expression to something more professional.

Interesting.

-

_“So what did you say to Ensign Tilly on the bridge?”_

_“Nothing.”_

_“She was laughing so hard I thought she was going to fall over, Dami.”_

_“Fine, I told her what happened when you first met Ball. She thought it was funny that the_ Big Brave _Starship Captain was afraid of a little robot spider.”_

_“It’s the size of a dog!”_

_“A small dog.”_

_“A_ big _dog!”_

-

_Keyla Detmer_

Keyla spotted the recognizable head of blue hair on the far side of the mess and took a breath. _Just do it_ , she told herself.

“I can’t just go and _talk_ to him,” she blurted out. “He’s a _Rydell_.”

“He’s just a guy,” Joann pointed out, though she wasn’t convincing in her conviction. “And he’s always working, even when he’s not on duty. Look, he’s having lunch _with the Captain_ and Rhys says he’s always in Pike’s quarters too. He’s probably miserable.”

“Why do _I_ have to do it, though?” Keyla asked.

“Because Rhys isn’t coming, I’m not a pilot and if Tilly asks him anything it’ll be if he wants to come back to her quarters,” Joann said, giving her a shove.

Keyla glared at her friend, then turned back around and marched over to where Rydell was sitting. He was gesturing at Captain Pike, who was smiling, with his fork as she approached, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying.

“Hi,” she said, nervous.

Rydell and the Captain looked at her, Pike smiled pleasantly and Rydell just blinked at her. He was very handsome, even with the wild blue hair. She noticed that his lower lip had a scar on the right side in the shape of a crescent.

“I was…” Keyla wanted the Captain to just leave. “There’s a classic movie being played in the rec room on deck three tonight, a bunch of the other officers are going and I wanted to know if you’d…”

“He’d love to,” Pike interrupted, and then jolted slightly. He shot Rydell a look and Rydell glared back.

“I’m busy.”

“He’s going,” Pike insisted. “What time?”

“I thought we were going to go over the CTP schedule, _Sir_?” Rydell’s tone was borderline insubordinate.

Pike shrugged and picked up a PADD from the pile scattered between them. “I think I can handle a majority of the scheduling myself, Lt Rydell,” he smiled, waving the PADD at the Lieutenant. “What time, Detmer?”

“2100, sir,” Keyla answered automatically. “Lieutenant, if you don’t want to-“

“He does,” Pike jolted again, wincing this time, and Keyla realised with alarm that Rydell was _kicking_ the Captain underneath the table. “Will that be all, Detmer?”

“Yes sir.”

-

_“How was the movie?”_

_“Replicator popcorn tastes like rubber, also what the hell is a_ Chewbacca _and is it xenophobic?”_

_“I have no idea.”_

_“How was your scheduling?”_

_“Boring. I missed you.”_

_“Then you shouldn’t have made me go.”_

_“Did you have fun?”_

_“That’s beside the point.”_

_“If you don’t start spending time outside of my quarters then people are going to start asking questions. And you need friends, Dami.”_

_“I have friends.”_

_“Robots don’t count.”_

-

_Gen Rhys_

It was getting really, _really_ hot in the shuttle. Rydell had disengaged the temperature regulators to boost life support another hour or so and the collective body heat of eight fully grown humans had caused the cabin become almost like a sauna.

“ _Discovery_ should be back any minute,” Tilly said, sounding nervous. “Right, Lieutenant?”

“Of course, Ensign,” Rydell replied, kicking his feet up on the fried control console. His chair rocked back as he fiddled with the collar of his jacket and then ultimately removed it. Underneath he wore a tight muscle shirt with holes in the sleeves for his thumbs, Rhys had always assumed he was wearing wrist guards under his jacket. “Can someone try another hail? _Please_?”

He said the last word through his teeth with a broad, comical smile that caused some of the nervous Ensigns to laugh or smile in return, and Rhys remembered why he’d been convinced to come along on this training exercise during his off duty shift. Rydell was charming, intelligent and calm under pressure; anyone else might have panicked when the life support system began losing power rapidly after they were hit by that asteroid and fried their systems, but Rydell was quick to shut off non essentials manually.

And by manually, he meant physically reaching into the mass of wires and cables under the panels and ripping out the pieces by hand.

There was the sound of communicators being opened and turned on as the Ensigns tried to contact _Discovery_ , and Rhys nudged Rydell gently. “Why are you having them try to hail the ship?” He asked softly. “You know it’s too far out for a communicator to reach.”

“Mainly to keep them busy,” Rydell replied with a shrug as he lifted his arm to run a hand through his sweaty blue hair. He was obviously overheating, but hadn't pulled the sleeves of his shirt up. “Do you really want six panicking Ensigns in a confined space?”

“Good point,” Rhys agreed.

“Sir?” Ensign Song said, tapping Rydell briefly on the shoulder.

Rydell turned in his chair to look at her, one eyebrow cocked up past where his hair had flopped down over his forehead from it’s usual wild upright mess.

“Captain Pike wouldn’t just leave us here, would he?” She asked with genuine concern on her features. “I mean, Lorca…”

It had been three hours since their shuttle had been damaged with no sign of _Discovery_ , it was no wonder these young Ensigns were starting to worry.

“I wasn’t briefed on your last Captain,” Rydell explained. “But from what I’ve heard…”

He sighed, looking out to the nebula that was framed perfectly in the front of the shuttle and smiled, a slow crack of a grin spreading across his features as something…soft danced in his eyes. “Christopher isn’t Lorca,” he said after a moment, sounding fond. “He’s…there’s no one like him, not in this galaxy or any other. He’s probably standing on the bridge right now helping the crew do everything to find us, stubborn and annoyingly hopeful.”

“You’re sure, sir?” Ensign McGarrett asked.

Rydell nodded. “He’s the best Captain Starfleet has ever had,” He said honestly. “And that’s including Jonathan Archer and Marie Rydell…”

Rhys’ head snapped around as the deep thrum of a Starship dropping out of warp filled his ears and he gave a sigh of relief at the sight of _Discovery_ gliding towards them. Behind him the Ensigns cheered, and out of the corner of his eye he saw a brilliant grin split Rydell’s features.

 _“Captain Pike to Galileo-Seven,”_ Pike’s voice crackled through the remaining working speaker on the control panel. _“Everyone prepare for transport.”_

Rhys stood and Rydell followed as he pulled his jacket back on but left the zipper undone. “Told you,” Rydell said to Ensign Song, grinning cheekily.

Song blushed and Rhys’ vision went white and his body tingled, then he found himself standing on the transporter pad aboard _Discovery_ facing Captain Pike, who looked uneasy and nervous.

The Ensigns all scurried off, probably to shower, but Rhys watched as Rydell stepped off the transporter pad and was immediately hugged by the Captain, who held him tight.

“We lost your signal and-“ Pike trailed off.

“I’m fine,” Rydell assured him as they separated. “Sweaty, but I’m fine.”

Pike seemed to deflate slightly, and sighed in relief. “I’m never letting you leave the ship again, Dami.”

“Now you know how I feel,” Rydell said with a smile. “Come on, I’m starving.”

Rhys watched them leave, unable to miss the way Pike’s arm moved to wrap around Rydell’s waist before dropping to his side.

 -

_“Do I have clearance to know about Gabriel Lorca?”_

_“Why do you want to know?”_

_“Because one of the Ensigns thought you weren’t going to come back for us, then implied Lorca wouldn’t have. And Lorca was my mother’s First Officer on the_ Persephone _.”_

_“I’ll always come back for my crew.”_

_“I know that but not everyone is you, Christopher. What happened to this crew?”_

-

_Airiam_

“Hey!” Tilly exclaimed, falling into step beside her. “Have you seen Lt Rydell? He was supposed to meet us in the gym at 0500 but he never showed up.”

“I have not,” Airiam replied. “Would you like me to ask the Captain during our meeting?”

“Yes please,” Tilly said quickly. “I mean, Captain Pike says we can all learn a lot from him and I don’t want to risk not learning as much as I can from a _Rydell_.”

Airiam wanted to point out that Lt Rydell was just a junior Officer, and that genetics were never as good as experience and hard work, but she suspected there was something else that attributed Tilly’s admiration of the Lieutenant.

Perhaps it had something to do with how she flushed whenever someone said his name.

Tilly waved goodbye and turned off down another hall, and Airiam soon found herself standing outside Captain Pike’s ready room.

The door slid open quickly, and Airiam stepped into the room.

Captain Pike was seated on the couch he’d had installed shortly after his arrival, a PADD in one hand and his other buried in a familiar, if disheveled, head of blue hair.

Lt Rydell was, effectively, unconscious. Airiam would have thought he was dead, if it weren’t for the soft snore that accompanied the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he slept next to the Captain.

“Captain,” she greeted.

Pike nodded and gestured for her to sit. “I’d stand but,” his eyes flicked to Rydell, and a flicker of a smile crossed his features. “He’s been working non stop for three days, I’d rather see him sleep than assume he actually did what I told him.”

“Ensign Tilly was looking for him,” Airiam said as she took one of the free seats and handed the Captain one of the two PADDS she was carrying. “He was supposed to meet the CTP Ensigns in the gym this morning.”

“I’ll make sure he contacts the Ensigns and apologises,” Pike assured her. “Now, you’re here to discuss some issues you’ve noted in _Discovery_ ’s systems?”

Pike was, surprisingly, quite adept with computers for someone who hadn’t ever been in a position of needing to know about them apart from how they could be used.

Somewhere between discussing _Discovery_ ’s computers and the upcoming party being held at the end of the month, Airiam’s sensors picked up a slight movement from Rydell. His eyes had opened, blinking around blearily but otherwise he didn’t move as Pike continued to stroke his hair. A smile spread across the Lieutenant’s face, dark eyes flicking up to Pike’s face as the Captain recounted a story from his time as Robert April’s First Officer.

His gaze lingered for a moment, before he shifted slightly and curled up a bit more then went back to sleep.

“I think that concludes our meeting, Commander,” Pike said, pulling Airiam back to the conversation. The Captain set his PADD on the table in front of him and stood, straightening his uniform jacket as he did and walked Airiam to the door. “And please make sure Ensign Tilly knows that their CTP Officer is just sleep deprived, not negligent to their education.”

“Of course, Captain,” Airiam smiled. “You two are close, aren’t you?”

“You could say that,” Pike replied with a shrug. “Have a good day, Commander.”

“And you, sir.”

-

_“Blueberry? It’s almost 1200. You need to wake up.”_

_“…no.”_

_“Yes. Get up.”_

_“No.”_

_“I’ll pour cold coffee on you.”_

_“You wouldn’t dare.”_

_“Try me.”_

-

_Sylvia Tilly_

Captain Pike was in a bad mood.

He wasn’t snapping at anyone, though. Or yelling. Or threatening to turn out to be an evil counterpart from a mirror universe full of evil people.

No, the only reason Tilly knew Captain Pike was in a bad mood was the fact he hadn’t stopped frowning since breakfast.

“Are you alright, Captain?” Tilly asked, taking back a signed PADD and placing another one in his hands. It was just busy work for the party tomorrow night, but there hadn’t been much excitement and the Captain asked if there was anything that needed his signature.

So, Tilly was helping him sign off on party supplies.

“What? Yes,” Pike replied, but his tone was lying. Pike was a liar who lied about his bad moods. “Just tired, Ensign. Streamers? Really?”

Tilly shrugged. “Engineering likes them,” she replied. “You just seem…unhappy, sir.”

“I’m fine,” Pike signed off on the streamers and handed back the PADD. “I expected more alcohol requests, though.”

“That’s next,” Tilly told him, and placed the first of three requests for different brands of vodka in his waiting hand. “Are you planning to go, sir?”

Pike didn’t immediately respond, and then instead said, “what can you tell me about the Lieutenant who spoke with Lt Rydell and I this morning? Franz, I think his name is?”

Tilly blinked. “J’acc Franz is a member of the security personnel, sir,” she replied. “I didn’t think he’d have much reason to speak to you…”

“He was asking Rydell to go with him to the party,” Pike interrupted, and sounded…annoyed by the fact. Furious, actually. “Ensign? Is something…”

Tilly realised, quite suddenly, that she was blushing. Again. Because she was imagining soft blue hair and those big dark eyes and…

Pike was staring at her, eyebrows raised, as he held out a signed PADD. “Is that all?” He asked.

Tilly glanced down at the PADDs in her arms and counted them, then looked up at the Captain and nodded.

“Good,” Pike said. “After you put those away, tell Lt Rydell I’d like to see him in my ready room. He should be on the bridge with Commander Burnham.”

“Yes sir.”

“And Ensign?”

“Yes?”

“Deep breaths, okay?”

Tilly grinned, feeling her blush return as Pike smiled at her. “Yes, sir.”

-

_“You’re in a foul mood.”_

_“So I’ve been told.”_

_“Don’t tell me you’re still upset about this morning? I turned him down! Anyway, he’s not my type.”_

_“What is your type, Dami?”_

_“Handsome silver foxes with a death wish.”_

_“I don’t have a death wish!”_

_“Phil Boyce and your medical file would say otherwise.”_

-

_Paul Stamets_

Tilly had practically dragged him out of his quarters, claiming that sitting down in Engineering would just make him more depressed. And that someone needed to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid.

Drifting through the crowds of crew members, he found himself at the bar next to Damian Rydell, who was cutting a sharp form in a black leather jacket, blue jeans and red converse. He was also wearing dark eyeliner and had some sort of glitter pushed through his blue hair.

Paul couldn’t help but compare the man beside him to his brother, Arthur, who he knew back at the Academy.

“Having fun?” He asked.

Rydell shrugged, dark eyes seemingly uninterested. Normally young officers were over eager during events like these, given the chance to talk to their superiors without formality and make an impression.

“Waiting for someone,” Rydell said in reply. “He’s _late_.”

Paul laughed at the disdain in Rydell’s tone, and felt sorry for whoever was standing up the blue haired man beside him. He ordered Rydell a drink, Earth Tequila, and a glass of Andorian Gin for himself.

They stood in silence for a moment, before Rydell sighed and downed the shot with practiced ease. “You know my brother,” he said.

“How’d you…”

“Because everyone who knew my brother looks at me like they think I’m going to be like him,” Rydell replied. “My mother most of all. How did you know him?”

“We were in the same year at the Academy,” Paul told him. “And he dated my roommate for a while. All they did was-“

“If you start talking about my brother having sex I’m going to need another drink,” Rydell interrupted. “Or ten.”

Paul laughed at that. “You sounded like him then,” he said. “I was sorry to hear about his death. My partner, Hugh, knew him better than I did.”

“You and everyone else,” Rydell shrugged.

Paul went to tell another story about Arthur’s time at the Academy when Captain Pike slid into the bar stool next to Rydell, dressed in a handsome blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and dark jeans.

It was obvious he’d already been drinking.

“You smell like whiskey,” Rydell muttered.

“You smell like blueberries,” Pike replied with a soft grin.

Pike wrapped an arm around Rydell’s waist and buried his face in the younger man’s shoulder. For a moment they stayed completely still, and then Rydell twisted his head to pressed his lips against Pike’s hair.

Paul’s eyes widened to the point he thought they would fall out of his head.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

“Excuse me,” he said quickly, rushing from the bar and right into Tilly.

“Hi!” Tilly said, beaming. “Having fun?”

“Why didn’t you tell me Captain Pike and Damian Rydell are dating?” He asked immediately, because Tilly shared _everything_. Why would she keep this from him?

Tilly blinked. “What?” She asked.

“They’re dating, Tilly,” he said, gesturing to where the two were leaning against each other at the bar. “You had to have known. You’re with them _all the time_.”

Tilly blinked, staring at the sight across the room with rapidly widening eyes, and then. “ _Oh my god_!” She almost shouted.

Paul stared at her. “You didn’t know?” He said.

“No!”

“How could you…”

“It’s…well it’s obvious _now_!” Tilly hissed. “I have to tell everyone! I knew there was something more to it!”

Paul reached out to grab her arm, but she was quicker than he expected and the darkened room caused him to misjudge where she was and Tilly disappeared into the crowds.

-

-

It took Chris a few hours into the shift to realise the crew was staring at him. He would later blame it on the fact his head felt like it had been split open, but in truth he’d just gotten used to it. He was still a newcomer on this ship, and people were likely to stare.

But this was different, it wasn’t just that the crew was staring at him, it was that they were trying to stare into his mind. To see his thoughts and secrets. It was an uncomfortable sensation, one that he’d felt before, after being suddenly divorced while serving on the _Triton_ as her helmsman. His fellow crew members had whispered behind his back for months about it, to the point where his Captain had suggested he transfer.

Looking back, it had worked in his favour. Robert April needed a First Officer for his new command, and he’d been ready to do anything if it meant forgetting Abby and his broken heart.

Across the bridge, his eyes met Damian's. The younger man had been quietly conducting practice tests for the upcoming Preliminary Exam, a grueling test of intellect, federation protocol, galactic history and procedure. Chris remembered having to stop himself from giving Damian any help when the younger man was studying for it only a year ago, and by the look on Tilly’s face, she was either finding it easy or thought she was finding it easy.

Damian was facing Tilly, his profile illuminated by the display screens behind him and Chris traced the lines of the other man’s face with his eyes; like the rest of him, Damian's face was lean and sharp, with sinfully long eyelashes and soft lips.

Chris knew he could waste hours studying Damian's profile, knew he _had_ wasted hours doing exactly that.

“Excuse me, Captain?” Saru said suddenly, startling Chris out of his daydream. “I was…made aware of a rumour that has been circling the ship today, are you familiar with the rumour I’m speaking of?”

Chris blinked at him. “I am not, Commander,” he replied honestly.

Saru looked uncomfortable. Well, more uncomfortable than he normally seemed. “It is concerning yourself and Lieutenant Rydell,” Saru continued. “And is…inappropriate in nature.”

Chris’ heart thudded in his chest, anxiety crawling up the back of his throat like a vicious snake to fill his mouth with burning poison. He swallowed tightly, and it burned.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Damian's head snap around almost painfully.

Saru tilted his head slightly. “I believe now would be best to put these rumours to rest, Captain?” He suggested.

Chris knew that it would be in the best interest of the mission, of the crew, to deny it. On _Enterprise_ he had the backing of a crew that trusted him unconditionally, and Damian had the benefit of having an established near inhuman work ethic and dedication that he’d been consistently improving since his transfer that warranted his rapid promotion. Their reputations were safe on _Enterprise_.

On _Discovery_ , he was a stranger sitting in the chair of a man who lied to and manipulated them until it almost got them all killed. And Damian was a talented young officer who’d seemingly only followed him onto the ship, despite the fact Chris had left him on _Enterprise_ for this exact reason.

 _We should have been more careful_ , he thought viciously, furious with his own carelessness.

He stole a glance at Damian , and as their eyes met he realised two things. The first was that so long as he lived, he never wanted to spend another day without Damian by his side.

The second was that he shouldn’t _care_ what other people thought of their relationship. They hadn’t broken any rules, he’d never asked for sex in exchange for loyalty or advancement, and that anyone who said Damian didn’t deserve his rank and position was a fucking idiot.

Damian seemed to realise his train of thought from a glance, and simply smiled.

“That would be a lie, Commander,” Chris said, standing from his chair. “Lt Rydell and I are involved, and have been for some time.”

Saru blinked, and Chris felt the air of the bridge thicken with tension.

He took a breath and looked each member of his bridge crew in the eye, they didn’t seem shocked by this revelation and for a moment Chris wondered which of them had figured them out.

“I hope I’ve already made clear over the past week that my relationship with Lt Rydell won’t effect my duty as your Captain,” he said. “And I hope that you’ve all taken the chance to know Lt Rydell as the dedicated Officer who was chosen by Admiral Cornwell to run the Command Training Program on _Discovery_.”

He knew they had. Damian was abrupt and easily irritated but he was damn good at his job, entirely dedicated to Starfleet without compromise when it came to his duty. Some of the Ensigns might accuse him of being hard on them, but if they wanted it easy then they weren’t cut out for Command.

“With this in mind, does anyone have any reservations about either of our qualifications on this ship?” He asked. “If you do, speak up. I want the air cleared before we all return to our duties.”

There was a brief exchange of murmurs from the crew, Detmer and Owo shared a look, Tilly blushed as she looked anywhere but at Damian (who was calmly sitting at his station fiddling with a stylus), Rhys was smiling, Bryce seemed wary and Airiam looked content.

“Burnham?” He asked, seeing her passive expression.

“I have no issue with your private life, Captain,” she told him, earnest.

“Commander Saru?”

Saru looked obviously uncomfortable. “It will take some time, sir,” the Kelpien said. “But I appreciate your honesty.”

“That’s all I ask,” Chris replied, and sat back in his chair. “Now let’s get back to work, shall we?”

There was a chorus of agreement from the crew, and Chris stole a glance at Damian .

He was working, quietly marking Tilly’s test as he talked her through her answers.  But for a moment he glanced up and their eyes met, and a small smile flickered into being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Comment if you did!

**Author's Note:**

> I love feedback, good or bad. Tell me what you think! :)  
> If you want to chat come talk to me on Twitter!
> 
> @SilverMyserie


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